It is 4:37 currently as I begin writing this.
In 1993, at this time I had been in labor since 8:00 am. My labor had been fairly unproductive until about 3 am, when I was taking a shower for some relief, and my water finally broke. My active labor continued for another hour and fifty minutes. At about 4:15, the anesthesiologist administered an epidural which Dr. Heller recommended. My doctor was a woman and I am so glad she pushed for the epidural. Then the nurse woke up Tom who had been sleeping on the floor in my room and I began pushing.
The pushing felt like it lasted for hours, but I think it must have been about fifteen minutes. That final push produced my daughter, and I heard, "it's a girl. Suddenly there was a tiny thing on my chest, they measured, weighed and cleaned her. and then whisked her to neonatal (I don't remember why and being in a post labor haze, I don't remember asking many questions). It was the sweetest moment in my life! And it was over and all I could remember was looking at her tiny hands and saying, "she has such long fingers! Maybe she'll be a pianist." No where was I aware that it was Mozart's birthday. And how prophetic were those words!!!